7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Kalwin

Every time I was at these types of events, I realized that I didn't hate them. It was great to see people and to talk with them. It was especially great to see the kids. They could care less about royal protocol and asked me all the best questions, like, "Do you get to have dessert with every meal?" and "Can I be a prince when I grow up?" It was adorable, endearing, and well worth the hassle of being a prince in public.

The part I hated was the waiting and preparation. My mere presence was a disruption to everyday life. I hated that I was making these parents scramble and adjust their day simply because it looked good to have me visit for a photo opportunity.

Alas, it had to be done.

The baby room was the best. I kissed a lot of foreheads and stopped short of asking to hold the infants. All of my nieces and nephews were older now, none of them in the newborn stage anymore, which meant I didn't get to cuddle babies as much. Perhaps there would be new royal babies soon. Wouldn't that be great?

I had no way of knowing that there was a person in that baby room who was going to tilt my entire world on its axis. Again.

I did my best to hold my composure when I locked eyes with Bren. He was the last person I expected to see here. Especially holding a baby—a very, very young baby.

"Is there a room where I might speak with Bren?" I asked my valet. James had been with me for years and could get just about anything done. I trusted his discretion.

"We have a meeting with the board here as soon as the meet-and-greet is done. We cannot delay," he said.

"I understand that. Can I have ten minutes?"

He nodded. "I can get you ten minutes."

"Thank you."

"This way, Mr. Bren," he said.

Bren's eyes widened, and his grip on the baby in his arms tightened. "I can't leave my child. Absolutely not." He kept his voice calm but firm. He didn't make a scene, though he had every right to. After all, I had lied to him.

My throat constricted. So the child in his arms was his. Bren had a child. A very young child.

I hated that he was worried about this conversation, worried about... I didn't know what. I hated that there was this secret between us. Not a day had gone by since saying goodbye to him that I did not regret not giving him some way to contact me or having some way to contact him.

Even if he continued to know me as Cal, it would have been great to talk to him. To see where our relationship might go. Clearly, it went totally different places than I thought.

The room my valet procured for us was a break room of some sort, with a small kitchenette and a table. There was a bowl of fresh fruit on the table, as well as muffins someone had brought from home.

"Cal, what is going on?" Bren asked, his voice edged with frustration.

I winced at his words. He used the shortened version of my name, the one I had given him when I was in disguise.

"You are a prince, a member of the royal family? What the hell?"

"I am," I said. "I did not mean to deceive you."

"You didn't mean to not tell me you were royalty? Did you forget?"

His words flew at me like daggers to my chest. "I suppose, when you put it like that, I did mean to deceive you. I just…" Fuck. It was not often I was at a loss for words.

"You didn't mean for me to find out? I get it. Is that a thing you do often? Seduce random guys, not letting them know who you are?" He glared now, his nostrils flaring with anger.

"No, I swear I have actually never done that before. I do often go out without guards, but with you it was the first time I had ever dated anyone. Bren, I have to ask." I looked at the infant in his arms.

His back straightened, and he held his infant son tighter. The little boy let out a small squeal, as if he thought his father's hug was a game. The sweet sound of his babbles was like a punch to the gut. Was he my son? My child that I shared with Bren?

"You can't take my son from me. I won't let you."

I held up my hands. "I am not looking to do that, Bren. I just would like to know if—"

"Yes, yes. Okay. Yes. You're his father. I would never have kept him from you, but I had no way of getting a hold of you. And I understand that's just as much my fault as it was yours. I'm not blaming you," he said. "You can't take him from me, please."

"How old is he?"

"Four months. He was born a few weeks early. Healthy, though. Just impatient, I guess."

I smiled a little. "My brother and I were six weeks early."

Bren's hold loosened, and he raised his brow. "Would you like to see him? Hold him?"

I sucked in a breath. "I think so."

Before I could take the little guy in my arms and finally get a proper look at my child, my valet came back into the room and the noise of the crowd outside filtered in, breaking the mood. The real world called, and I had no choice but to answer. "Your Highness, I'm sorry. There'll be questions if we're kept waiting much longer."

I fought back the groan. Never before had I felt such a strong urge to run from my responsibilities. Even when I was living my double life, I hadn't wanted to skip out on events, I simply wanted space. Now, I wanted to gather Bren and our son in my arms and just escape.

"It's okay. I'm not going anywhere. I'm staying with my sister," Bren said. "We can talk at a different time. Can I give you my contact information? I've got to get him home anyways. It's well past his nap time."

I nodded, my fingers aching to hold my child just once before he left. But my valet, while loyal to me, was also loyal to the crown and the image we had to uphold. It was very likely he could report all of this to the king. I needed answers before that could happen.

"I'll be in touch," I said.

"Okay," Bren agreed.